Courtly Love
by Dr Spleenmeister
Summary: Maintaining one's integrity in a Court full of manipulators and sycophants is no easy task, and it's a job that's made even harder once a certain charismatic knight returns from abroad...  Rating will go up later
1. Corpus

**A/N - a little AU, this piece makes Marian into a slightly darker character; I hope she doesn't jar!**

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**Courtly Love **

**Chapter 1**

From her very comfortable seat at the head table, she looked around the banquet hall with a practiced air of aloofness, her chin tilted at a defiant angle and a faint, self-satisfied smirk pulling at her lips. She could feel the eyes upon her, from people from all walks of life, they were curious about her. The Lady Marian, the daughter of the sheriff, the ice queen; they knew precious little about her, yet her fame preceded her everywhere she went. She could not own to disliking this fact, it meant that she had to make a minimum of effort to get what she wanted; people fell over themselves to please her - more for fear of not knowing what her reaction would be if they failed than anything else.

Ignoring the serving girl who had appeared at her elbow to refill her goblet with wine, she took in the nobles of the room. Lord Henry 'Hotspur' Percy was in the corner, charming several young ladies - and a couple of men - with his tales of victory in the north; the elderly and distinguished Sir James Audley was seated at a nearby banqueting table with his wife, the two were engaged in a deeply private conversation, if their bowed heads were any indication; Vasey, the diminutive yet ferociously intelligent noble favoured by the House of Plantagenet, could be seen from the corner of her eye, conversing with a much taller man who she did not recognise. Turning her head to get a better view, she raised her now full goblet to her lips and peered over the rim at the two men who had caught her attention.

Vasey's companion stood a clear head higher than he, the man's figure was lithe and powerful, his close-cut doublet leaving that fact unquestionable. His jet black hair fell in a wave of silk over the collar of the wine-coloured garment. His weight was propped confidently on one hip and his left hand rested on the pommel of the sword belted at his waist. If Marian's eyes did not deceive her, the sword the man favoured was thinner and longer than the average soldier's blade. The golden emblem embroidered onto his cloak made it clear that this was a Knight of the Garter, so he was obviously a fierce warrior; it appeared highly likely that his choice of weapon was not accidental.

Vasey said something that made the man laugh and Marian was treated to the sight of a long column of throat as he threw his head back in mirth. Her interest well and truly piqued by now, she let her eyes rove over his long limbed form; she may be a maid but let it not be said that she did not have eyes. The longer she looked, the more she liked what she saw. He filled his clothes very well, clearly he had an excellent tailor; his breeches were tight in all the right places and his doublet emphasised his broad shoulders and trim waist.

The Prince's voice in her ear startled her from her admiration, "He is Sir Guy of Gisbourne, my Lady Marian, I had been considering proposing him to you as a suitor. Gisbourne is a loyal servant to the crown and he is a man of means, he would see you comfortable for the rest of your days."

A thought - lightning-fast - shot through her mind that this delicious man could be hers whenever she wanted, she need only say the word. The abrupt reminder of her power made for a heady sensation and she reveled in it for a brief moment before answering the Prince. "I am grateful to you, your Highness," she had not looked away from Gisbourne, and now he was looking at her too. His eyes glittered dangerously at her from below a stern brow and his face betrayed no expression. He was still conversing with Vasey, turning his face, but not his eyes, towards the other man; his eyes were fixed unflinchingly on Marian. She fought back a smirk, still floating on a cloud of feminine power, it would not do to have her carefully crafted public facade stripped away by a pair of piercing eyes and a handsome face. Breaking the staring match, she turned to dazzle the Prince with a smile, "But I am betrothed to Robin, Earl of Huntington."

The Prince waved a dismissive hand and scoffed, "Pah, I can make and break betrothals as I please. Besides, Huntington is the lord of a mere squat of a village, he could barely afford to keep you in gowns!" Prince John nodded decisively. "I intend to bestow considerable lands and wealth on Gisbourne, upon the King's return; he will become a very wealthy man indeed. He has earned it, he has served his country well."

Marian returned her gaze to the men, only to find their previous perch empty; they were nowhere to be seen. She huffed a quiet sigh and said to the Prince, "I would not be averse to knowing this man, Sire."

The Prince smirked knowingly. "Indeed."

* * *

Edward Knighton had worked hard to raise his family's profile and fortunes over the years, and to the larger extent he had been successful. They moved in all the right circles, dined with the right people, were seen in the right places and, most importantly of all, they danced the delicate dance. Not only that but they danced it well. Knighton was at the height of his success; as Sheriff of Nottingham he was positioned at the pinnacle of the region's hierarchy, it made him very rich, very popular and very powerful. Knighton was clever, he knew that to try to advance any further than he had would be foolish - once one passed from the tertiary into the secondary circle of court, one's life expectancy became considerably shorter - so he accepted his position as head of the region and resigned himself to remain there.

Robin came to visit her at the castle, as he often did, though she was never entirely sure if he came to court her or her father. The Earl of Huntington meant well, she was sure, but as a woman of occasionally precarious means - she _was _the daughter of a politician after all - she was well aware that to admire a lady for her charms alone was not enough; she had to have a purse to be admired as well. Robin's finances were as unfortunate as Prince John had suggested, so Marian - like the good apprentice politician she was - held her heart at a safe distance from him. She knew that if her father had any sense he would shortly be dissolving the betrothal between her and Huntington and be looking to make a new, more stable, arrangement with another young noble in court. To that end she was beginning to formulate her own ideas as to who would be a good match. This Gisbourne that the Prince had indicated as a possibility for her hand had potential; she told herself it was purely his promised station that interested her and not the magnetism that had flared briefly between them at the Prince's banquet.

Huntington's visit was shorter than usual today; he seemed to be picking up on the waves of icy aloofness radiating from Marian and took his leave as soon as was politely acceptable. Marian was relieved; he was a pleasant young man, very well meaning, and she did not wish to cause him any more discomfort than was necessary. He would not take the inevitable severance from her marital future well when the moment came. She was rearranging her skirts when her maid appeared at the door to her parlour to announce unexpected guests.

"Prince John and Sir Guy of Gisbourne, Ma'am."

The two men entered the room and Marian sucked in slow breath as her usually feminine retreat suddenly seemed to fill with testosterone. She rose to her feet to receive them, dipping a curtsey to the Prince as he pressed a gallant kiss to her knuckles.

"My Lady Marian, it is a pleasure, as always to see you in such good health. May I introduce my friend?" He gestured to the other man, "Sir Guy of Gisbourne; I believe you saw him at the banquet the other night." The Prince hid a smirk as he watched Marian and Guy size one another up in a quick glance. He had always suspected that Marian was her father's daughter, and as Edward was a master manipulator it stood to reason that Marian could turn out to be the same. It would be interesting to see her cool interacting with Gisbourne's fire.

"My Lady." Gisbourne bowed - once he had given her a once over with his eagle-like eyes - and marveled at her beauty. Now he had the opportunity to see it up close, it was easy to see how she had managed to beguile half of the men in court. After noticing her at the Prince's banquet he had asked one of the other knights about her - he knew better than to ask Vasey, that would be like a lost mouse asking a trustworthy looking cat the way home - and had learned that while she was a famous beauty, she was cold and untouchable. The statement had surprised him considering that he had seen something very hot and very touchable in her countenance as she had watched him across the room. The conflict between general consensus and his own first impression had settled the thought into his mind that he wanted to find out for himself what the truth was. But now was not the time to do that, after all this was their first proper introduction and to probe now - no matter how delicately done - would be unforgivably unchivalrous. He schooled his expression instead into a mask of polite interest.

"Sir Guy." Marian curtseyed demurely before flicking her eyes back up to meet his; they were pale, like ice-cold water on a winter's day, but something was behind them. Out of context and without knowing him at all, beyond a name, she had no idea as to what it could be. She felt the strange and irresistible draw to him, as she had the night of the banquet, but fought against it; now was neither the time nor the place to examine it.

The impromptu meeting was mercifully brief - merciful because Marian could feel her legendary cool beginning to falter in the company of such a powerfully magnetic presence - and she was glad when the men had taken their leave and departed. Sir Guy of Gisbourne was clearly a man to be handled carefully and preferably in small doses, if she had any hope of retaining her composure around him.


	2. Magnetism

**Courtly Love**

**Chapter 2**

Acting as the chalice for a Royal's desires tended to bring a rather unique mixture of reward and punishment for said chalice.

The lady who found herself in this enviable position had social doors opened for her that previously would have been locked tight; however she would find the final door, the ultimate door that all ladies of court wished they had the key to, forever locked to her. She would not be permitted to be close to the one person she wanted to be close to when the final and inevitable result of their union came, and she would most certainly never lay hands on the crown.

Lady Edith was suspiciously absent from court this day - suspicious to all who did not already know that she and the Prince had been enjoying one another's intimate company for over a year. The instant that she began to show the bloom of impending motherhood, she was removed from the public eye. The official line was that she had gone to Derby to tend to a sickly aunt; the truth was that she and her unborn bastard had been sent to the countryside so as not to embarrass the Prince. They would be well cared for provided that they behaved themselves, but they would not be acknowledged.

Marian had mixed feelings about Lady Edith's situation. Edith was a nice enough girl, if a little simple, but she had chosen to pursue the Prince and therefore had made her own bed in Marian's eyes. However, she did not deserve to be cast aside once the consequences of her lover's actions could no longer be hidden.

The other concern of course was the fact that she had handed over her maidenhead to a man who was not her husband. The man in question might be a Royal, but to Marian that did not matter; she held her own maidenhood in the highest regard and she would not relinquish it to any man who would simply cast her aside when she became an inconvenience.

Marian had principles.

Her gaze scanned the room, taking in who was seen to be talking with whom. She saw Edward gesturing subtly to her to go to him, so she excused herself from her own conversation with Lady Madeleine and went to join her father. He guided her to a slightly more secluded part of the hall and crooked his finger, indicating for her to lean in close to hear what he wanted to say to her.

"My dear, this may have been a conversation better had in private, but alas my work has kept me too engaged of late for me to even take my supper of an evening, let alone sit with my daughter and discuss her future." He fingered his wedding ring absently with his left thumb as he spoke. "I feel you may have an inkling as to what I am going to say." He looked into her eyes to gauge her response, "I am dissolving your betrothal to the Earl of Huntington." Her face was an impressively blank mask, at which he smirked faintly in pride. "Robin is a good lad, but I fear for your future comfort and the stability of your position in court, so I think a stronger alliance would be prudent. What do you think?"

Marian felt a pang of sorrow. Her betrothal to Robin had always been a constant in her life, through her father's various rises and falls (and indeed Robin's father's, before the elderly gentleman's quiet demise), and she would be sad to see the end of it, despite her own logical view of the thing. She nodded, "I understand, Father."

Edward took her hands in his and smiled gratefully at her, "I knew you would, my child, you always did have more sense in your head than your sisters." He nodded in the direction of the rest of the room in general, "So, who shall we tie you to instead, eh?"

Faster than she could think, Lord Vasey and Sir Guy of Gisbourne entered the great hall; her heart leapt into her throat as the Fates seemed to laugh in her ear. Beside her, her father tutted quietly, "Dear me, Vasey is back. What a pity; he is a most disagreeable man." As if hearing him, the two newcomers to the hall looked over and headed straight for them. Gisbourne's eyes locked onto hers from below hooded eyelids and did not waver until he came to a halt in front of her and was introduced by Vasey to her father.

Edward was all charm, "Sir Guy, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance; reports of your triumphs abroad have been flowing thick and fast into court."

Marian's lips twitched very slightly, hiding a smirk at her father's exaggerated praise; they had not heard of Gisbourne before last week's banquet. Gisbourne nodded his thanks then looked purposefully at her, taking a breath as he did.

Vasey jumped in, cutting Gisbourne off before he had chance to speak to her. "Lady Marian, I cannot help but wonder if you know the whereabouts of Lady Edith? I had so hoped to see her today." Edward moved closer to her, his protective instincts flaring while they were in Vasey's presence.

She was thankful for her father's strengthening presence at her shoulder, Vasey was intimidating and his serpentine smile always set her nerves jangling. "I believe she is at a sick relative's bedside, my Lord."

Vasey rocked back on his heels and narrowed his eyes shrewdly at the young woman. "Indeed. If she does not return it leaves her court lady's space vacant; do you think you might look to take the role yourself?"

Marian's eyes darkened at the implication that she would be the next to throw herself into the Prince's bed, but she managed to keep her rage out of her voice as she answered, "I highly doubt it, my Lord."

"But of course," Vasey's toothy grin gained an edge, "I imagine your betrothed would not be too keen on the idea."

Gisbourne's eyes snapped from their polite attention of Vasey's small talk to fix searchingly on hers. Something was in their depths again, as there had been the previous evening in her parlour. Clearly he had not been aware that she was promised to another. She ignored him, her entire attention was needed on Vasey, if she was to be certain that the trickster was not going to succeed in tripping her up. "No, I imagine not."

Vasey scratched his cheek. "Would you be so kind as to remind me who the lucky young man is? I have been out of the area for so long, I forget who is bound to whom."

A muscle in Gisbourne's jaw jumped.

Marian tilted her head politely. "I thank you for you interest, my Lord Vasey. My betrothed is the Earl of Huntington." It was not a complete lie, after all the betrothal had not yet been officially dissolved, only she and her father knew the truth.

"Oh yes, that's right! Tell me, have you two lovebirds set a date for your nuptials yet?"

Marian smiled a fixed, public smile. "Not yet, my Lord."

Vasey smirked knowingly. "Shame. If you will excuse us, the Prince has requested our company." He bowed and left, without checking to see if Gisbourne was with him. The latter delayed a moment, his eyes searching Marian's, for what she did not know, before he too bowed and with one last lingering look, took his leave.

Marian sucked in a slow breath to steady her nerves. Had she passed Vasey's test? Was that even a test? It was so hard to tell with the horrible little man.

Edward clucked his tongue quietly in thought. "I say, that Gisbourne fellow could be interesting."

She raised an eyebrow and looked at her father from the corner of her eye. "Indeed?" She certainly found Gisbourne interesting, though most likely not in the same way as her father.

"Mm." He leaned in close again to speak, as his eyes resumed their scanning of the room. He did not need to see his daughter's face, he knew her so well that they could often carry out entire debates without needing to look at one another to read the other's reaction. "His facade is impressive, it is almost wooden! I struggled to read a thing in his countenance, but a man does not rise to his station by being an automaton. We shall need to watch this one."

Marian smiled and felt herself flush. There was no need to verbalise her response to that statement.

"Vasey troubles me though; he always has, and his irritatingly grinning face is as inscrutable as ever. I guarantee he'll have one hand showing deference to the Prince and the other pulling a string somewhere close by." He shook his head. "I don't need to tell you how dangerous he is."

Her smile vanished and her expression became as suddenly grave as her father's. "Do not worry yourself, Father, I will keep both eyes wide open when dealing with Lord Vasey."

* * *

The next day there was a package awaiting her when she awoke. It was brought into her room along with her breakfast tray; she waited until her maid had gone before she opened it.

Inside the simple wrapping was an equally simple box, inside which was a plain, silver necklace.

Frowning delicately, her breakfast all but forgotten, she took the chain out of the box and held it up to look at it. It was delicate but strong, there were no embellishments and it had no pendant. Looking more carefully inside the wrapping the box had come in, she realised there was a note accompanying it. Replacing the necklace in the box, she opened the note, reached for a piece of bread and read it while she ate.

_This necklace is a token of my regard. _

_It has a partner which remains in my possession;_

_It also has a pendant, which I will give to you when you are ready._

She frowned again, the note was not signed.

She wracked her brain. Who would want to send her anonymous gifts? Her first thought was Robin, but this was too mysterious for him, he wore his heart on his sleeve; and besides this was not his handwriting. Was she supposed to wear it? What would it signify if she did?

Her heart jumped into her throat: what if it was from Gisbourne? Then her heart slipped from her throat into her stomach: what if it was from _Vasey?_

She suddenly found she had lost her appetite.


	3. Evocation

**Courtly Love**

**Chapter 3**

Sir Guy of Gisbourne was not a man renowned for his softness; he was not known for his courtly gallantry; he was not the man that the minstrels made songs about and he was not a famous sycophant. He was, however, known for his ruthless efficiency on the battlefield; he was known for his strict adherence to the code of chivalry; he was the man that the ladies of court whispered giddily about and he was famous for his sharp tongue. He made no apologies for being the straightforward kind of man that he had always aspired to be; if any man took issue with him he would be dealt with in the best way the knight knew how.

He was leaning against a stone wall in the great hall, trying to ignore Lord Vasey as the shorter man droned on and on and _on _about some inconsequential little thing. For the most part he had been successful, and was now examining the detail in the stained glass window directly facing him high on the opposing wall. That was, until he heard Vasey mention Lady Marian's name. His ears perked up and he looked at the noble.

"She and that little rat Huntington have been nothing but a pain in my backside, I don't mind telling you. They're always out giving - _giving!_ - food to the peasants on the Locksley estate." Vasey huffed and inflated himself like a grumpy little toad.

Guy frowned. "The Locksley estate belongs to Huntington does it not? Surely what he does on his own grounds is his business." He refused to acknowledge the unspoken statement that Huntington carried out these acts of charity with Lady Marian by his side. His stomach clenched uncomfortably in jealousy and his frown turned into a scowl at the sensation; he did not like the effect that the daughter of the sheriff had on him. He was not accustomed to being discomfited by a woman, he was not sure what to do with the feeling; all he knew was that it made him feel weak and that weakness was unacceptable.

Vasey grumbled, "Well yes, but charity is not taxable."

The roiling in his gut abruptly forgotten, Guy looked down at Vasey; that last comment did not make sense. "What does tax matter to you other than the fact that you have to pay it? You're not the sheriff, taxes don't line your coffers."

Vasey's eye glinted and the hint of a smirk tickled at the corners of his mouth. He started to rub his hands, then checked himself and thrust his hands behind his back. "You're quite right, dear boy, quite right." He began bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Guy rolled his eyes, folded his arms and looked away. He knew Vasey was a schemer - he didn't approve of schemers - so the less he knew the better.

Vasey's voice cut through the enforced silence after a moment, "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were rather taken with her the other evening."

Guy's face remained enviably implacable, but his innards started jumping irritatingly at the mere mention of her. "Who, Lady Marian?" His voice showed nothing of his inner excitement at discussing her, "I barely met her. She is a beauty, I will grant you." He attempted to sound standoffish.

This time Vasey did smirk. "What if I told you that it will soon be in my power to deliver her to you, willingly or not?"

Although Guy's face did not pale at the smaller man's intimation, his excited innards suddenly stopped jumping around and roiled over one another instead in queasiness. He had never forced a woman in all his years of position and he never would. He forced himself to be polite, even as every nerve in his very powerful body demanded to be given permission to slug the man, "I would say 'no thank you', My Lord."

"Shame." Vasey, given of a very short attention span unless it concerned his immediate advancement, instantly lost interest and wandered off to speak to an equally slimy duke whom Guy had been avoiding since returning to court.

Thankfully alone, Guy let out a carefully moderated breath and willed himself to be calm. It would not do to make a scene in such a public place, despite his instinctive urge to maintain the lady's dignity.

Said lady entered the room a short while later and went immediately to join her friend and court ally, the Baroness of Ryton.

"Oh Marian, thank goodness you are here, I was starting to wilt with boredom."

Marian smiled at her customary over-exaggeration. "Why Mary, surely the driest, stuffiest room in all of England could not be so dull?"

"Well." Mary's eyes danced away from Marian and settled on a point across the room. She smirked, satisfied by what - or whom - she saw over there. "Maybe not now."

Marian chose not to follow her gaze, as to do so would require her to fully turn her head. Such pointed examination of a subject would draw attention to both the subject and to her. Besides, knowing Mary, she had probably seen a handsome lord across the room. Mary was a loyal and loving wife to the Baron, but she still had an eye for the boys.

Returning her attention to her companion, Mary nodded to Marian's decolletage. "That is a very pretty necklace, if a little plain for my taste."

Unconsciously Marian fingered the delicate silver chain. "Thank you." She had thought long and hard about whether to wear it or not, especially as she did not know what would happen if she did. However, her curiosity won over her common sense, so she had decided to wear it to court today and see what - if anything - would happen. Safely ensconced now by her friend's presence, she scanned the room carefully, looking for the necklace's partner; logic would dictate that the admirer who had given hers to her, would be wearing the other for her to see.

Mary's rapidly shifting attentions cut into Marian's introspection. "I say, you see quite a bit of the Earl of Huntington, do you not?"

Sensing an incoming attack on Robin's good name, Marian was reserved in her reply. "Yes; why do you ask?"

"Well," Mary leaned closer and lowered her voice conspiratorially, "It seems your young Earl is making quite a name for himself amongst the peasant class with his acts of charity. Word has even reached as far north as my household, the servants talk of nothing else! They're calling him 'Robin of Locksley', is that not something?" She straightened up and carried on, either not noticing or choosing to ignore Marian's shocked silence. "Though why they call him Robin of Locksley I cannot fathom, after all Huntington is his dukedom."

Marian's reply - once she had found her voice - was carefully moderated. "Locksley is his home, he has a manor house there, maybe that is why."

Mary shrugged daintily. "Perhaps. Oh, did you see the Marquess' gown yesterday? My dear I have never seen anything so frightful in all my-"

Marian tuned her out and pretended to listen as her friend whittered on about the horrors of fashions of the moment. This news of Robin's success was welcome and yet unwelcome; if word of his work reached the ears of the wrong people he could be in a great deal of danger. However, he had said to her only a few days prior that he had decided to make a more definite effort towards easing the burdens of daily surfhood from the workers of his village. In which case it was only a matter of time before everyone in court knew what he was doing.

She only hoped their response would be positive and not condemning.

Her fingers went to her new necklace again and a faint smile curled her lips; Robin had always been very attentive to her, maybe the gift was from him after all.

"Lady Marian."

The deep masculine voice came from close behind her. She glanced at Mary - the other's eyebrow had raised at the interruption and another smirk tickled the corners of her mouth - and as she turned she felt her heart rate pick up speed. She kept the reaction from her face, however. "Sir Guy." She curtseyed and cast a surreptitious glance at his neck as he bowed; his collar was too high, if he was wearing the other chain below his doublet she could not see it.

She tried not to feel too disappointed.

Sir Guy drew up to his full, impressive height. "I had hoped to speak with your father today, My Lady, but I am told he is not attending court." His eyes flicked briefly to Mary and back as she politely withdrew and moved away to speak with Lady Wylam. His voice lowered, "Might I be bold enough to request an audience with him this afternoon?"

Marian smiled genteelly. "I am not my father's aide, Sir Guy, so I cannot attest to his official availability. However, if you were to call on us at Knighton Hall this evening, I am sure he would be free to make time for you." The thought of seeing Gisbourne in her home again gave her a pang of dark pleasure; he was not a suitor - at least not yet, not officially - but she enjoyed the way he made her feel when he looked at her.

His eyes flickered very quickly - almost imperceptibly - to the necklace around her neck; she watched for his response to seeing it upon her throat, but was disappointed to see none other than a slow blink of his eyelids.

He stepped very slightly closer to her, his eyelids lowered seductively and his voice dropped again to a throaty purr. "You are very kind, My Lady Marian."

Marian's mouth went dry. '_My_ Lady Marian', that had a nice ring to it; her carefully controlled and well hidden girlish side, giggled giddily in her head. Unwilling to trust her lips to respond with a mature answer, she settled for a slow dip and bow of her head. She gazed up at him through her eyelashes on her way back up and watched him take a slow, deep breath.

Good. She had an effect on him too.


	4. Stage One

**Courtly Love**

**Interlude - Stage One**

Safely back 'home' in the barracks, Guy was thankful that the others were nowhere to be seen. Shedding his heavy, leather doublet he dropped the garment onto his bunk and heaved a breath as a weight seemed to lift from him. He wished he was back at Gisbourne Manor so he could have some real privacy, but he would be unable to return to his ancestral home for at least another month. As it was he would have to settle for the temporary quiet of the knights' dormitory.

Sinking down to sit on the edge of his bed, he dropped his head into his hands and threaded his fingers through his hair.

He had tried to resist the charms of the Lady Marian, for the sake of his own sanity if nothing else; but it was to no avail. She had beguiled him as she had all the others, and like those others he was now held in her thrall. The worst part was that it had taken her no time at all to ensnare him; he had been enamoured of women before but never had he fallen so quickly.

He surged to his feet and started to pace, one hand scrubbing over his jaw as he did.

As a knight he was entitled to engage in courtly love with any noble woman he pleased, even a married one, and as a Knight of the Garter his honour was beyond question.

Therein lay his problem.

The violence of his emotions, when Huntington's attachment to her had been brought into conversation, had startled him and proved beyond a shadow of a doubt in his mind that he could never be content with courtly love with her. He wanted her; not her favours, not her coy glances of affection, he wanted ALL of her. Lost to his heart he moaned softly, "_Midons_," and the term of endearment sealed his fate. For now he would have to content himself with loving her the only way he was permitted, the small consolation being that he was within his rights to do his damnedest to make her feel more deeply for him than she did for huntington.

His lips pulled back in a grinning snarl, it was a challenge he would savour.

* * *

**A/N **For anyone who may have been wondering what the hell this story is actually about, here it is! Courtly love was a recognised practice in the middle ages and from the sounds of it the poor sods who practiced it went through an agony of longing. With that in mind, you can expect the UST factor to ramp right up from the next chapter onwards!

Thanks for sticking with me thus far ^_^

Doc x


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